Boy Stuff

My pool is full of boys right now, and all of my own boys are not even home. They are making fun of Shark Week... the fake blood and far-fetched stories. I'm not sure about their assessments, and I have no opinion. I don't watch things like Shark Week because I prefer to swim in blissful oblivion.

Boys are a ton of fun. I really do enjoy them immensely. And to think I struggled with the reality of another boy each time the ultrasound technician pointed out the "part!" A boy for sure, they said. And I wondered how I would deal with the noise and dirt and, well, boy-ness that would be inevitable. But I have loved it. I would have liked more girls, too, but God knows best and gifts us accordingly.

I know I will never be able to remember everything that captures my attention and humors me about the boys, but I try. Here's to my attempt at trying to remember them well:

This is how I found Jacob, just moments after his shower. He said he wanted to be an Indian. His face paint was some powdery stuff that came from a mushroom he found, which he had crushed up in a nutshell. 

Proud chief-boy

Then there's Andrew. He's been spending hours- days, actually- in this tree.

Jon bought him some rope and a few pulleys, and he used some leftover wood to build some platforms.

He wakes up with plans in his head everyday, and works persistently to accomplish his goals. I won't complain about how the tree looks because this is a million times better than playing video games.

The buckets are filled with rocks and bricks, perfectly measured out so that he can lower himself out of the tree at a smooth, steady pace.

And this note? It was Andrew's way of letting me know I needed to give him a haircut!

Michael is growing at an astounding pace. I went into his room to wake him (never an easy task, probably because of all the energy going into growth), and noticed that his bed is getting small. It won't be long and he'll be needing a size 13 shoe. Remember, this boy is still only 13 years old. Should I be worried?

Since I started this post, I've dished up some ice cream with the some chocolate bars I brought back from Canada. I did it Cold Stone-style. Now there are three younger boys out in the lane way with their bowls of ice cream and they are doing handstands on the concrete. Just moments before they were getting passing drivers to honk. 

The older kids are on the back deck, acting a little more civilized except for odd sounds here and there...

~Katherine